Islands of Rage and Hope

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“Sergeant Hoag, pull your team out,” Gunny Choy radioed.

“Never leave a Marine behind, Gunnery Sergeant,” Sergeant Sheila Hoag replied.

The gunny’s Humvee was high-sided on a pile of infected. More were piling on as he radioed. The team of Marines and some civilian and Navy refugees stuffed into the Humvee were safe. For now. On the other hand, they couldn’t get out.

Hopkins was blazing through ammo on the 240 but the infected were swarming onto their Humvee, too. If she didn’t watch it she was going to be in the same boat as the gunny.

“Gunnery Sergeant,” Hoag radioed, backing around to try to keep some of the infected guessing. “I think if I can get in behind you I can push you off the pile.”

The H7D3 virus had hit the base in waves. There had been, in retrospect, a slew of “patient zeros” in a large-scale Navy personnel transfer. There were only 7500 people on the sprawling base and when they were up to four hundred infected in “temporary care facilities” that made the worst gulags on Earth look like a picnic, and another four hundred dead from the virus itself, the base wasn’t running so well.

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